


Like a Firework Show

by Linsky



Series: Captivated by You, Baby [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dirty Dancing, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seduction, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4815419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linsky/pseuds/Linsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler said to watch, but—Jamie’s pretty sure this isn’t what he meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Firework Show

**Author's Note:**

> My first Tyler/Jamie story! Many thanks to aohatsu for picking the summary and for preventing me from accidentally turning Tyler into a come vampire.
> 
> (Title courtesy of Taylor Swift, of course.)

Jamie’s never had the best luck picking up women.

It’s not that he doesn’t try. Well, he doesn’t try as often as he could, because it’s kind of awkward and frustrating and he gets shot down a lot, and sometimes he loses his grip on his drink and has to fumble to catch it and that’s not much fun. But he tries enough.

It usually goes okay for the first couple of minutes, and then—Jamie’s never quite sure what goes wrong then. Sometimes the girl loses interest and turns away, or else they talk for like two hours and then she smiles and says she’s going home with her friends. Jamie’s pretty sure he’s missing something, some crucial point at which he’s supposed to make it clear that she can go home with _him_ if she wants, but he can never figure out when that is.

He wishes this were a thing where he could review game tape.

“It’s not that hard,” Tyler says. They’re the only ones at their table in the club at the moment. “You just have to—get close to them, you know?”

“Close how?” Jamie asks.

Tyler gives a smile that’s more like a leer and sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth. “You really don’t know?”

Jamie fiddles with his beer bottle. He hates talking about this stuff. “It’s just…well. What if they don’t want me to get close to them?”

“Dude, I don’t mean, like, force yourself on them,” Tyler says. “You just…show them you’re interested, and if they are, too, they’ll show you back, and you take it from there. Right?”

“Um,” Jamie says. That sounds fine, in theory. In practice, he thinks it would end up with the woman backed into the bar and looking around for someone to save her from the fidgeting crazy person in front of her. “I think it’s just easier for you.”

“How so?” Tyler asks.

Jamie stares at him in exasperation for a couple of moments, because Tyler should really be able to figure this out. Finally Jamie waves a hand at Tyler’s…well, at all of him. “Because of all that, dingus.”

Tyler still stares for a moment, and then he rolls his eyes. “Dude. That is _so_ not your problem.”

Jamie doesn’t answer, just picks at the label on his beer. He’s feeling kind of…antsy, the way he does when he hasn’t been close to anyone like that in way too long, where he’s not turned on, exactly, but drawn tight like a rubber band about to snap.

“Look.” Tyler stands up, all perfect limbs and dimples that, no matter what Tyler says, go a long way towards explaining why he gets the girls and Jamie doesn’t. “You just need a little confidence. Watch me, okay?”

“Watch you what?” Jamie asks, suspicious.

Tyler grins at him, tongue poking out between his teeth again. “Just watch.”

He practically saunters over to the bar, going straight up to a woman in a tight bright-blue dress with glossy black hair and really amazing boobs. She’s way out of Jamie’s league, but it’s Tyler, so of course she lights up as soon as he leans in with a smile and some line or other.

Jamie snorts to himself. Like that would ever, ever happen if Jamie were the one talking to her. For someone who seems generally aware of how good he looks—hello, half-naked twitter pictures—Tyler’s surprisingly clueless about how much of a role that has in picking up women.

He’s going to look away, but—it can’t actually hurt to watch. And Tyler did tell him to. At this point, Jamie will try anything.

Tyler and the girl talk for a bit, and Jamie kind of zones out. Hard to pay attention to a conversation he can’t hear. He does try to watch what Tyler does, though: the way he leans in, the way one of his hands brushes against the girl’s arm a couple of times while they talk. The way she changes her stance, leaning forward a little, head tilted towards him.

It’s such obvious interest. Jamie tries to remember if women have ever looked like that when he was talking to them. He can’t remember seeing anything so blatant, but—maybe it’s just harder to see when he’s focusing on not panicking and ruining the conversation? Or maybe it’s something that just happens to Tyler. He can see why a girl would tilt towards someone who was giving her a smile like that.

It’s a little depressing, actually, watching how easily the girl reacts to him. Tyler says something that makes her giggle, and he drops his hand to her wrist and skims his fingers along the veins. A blush rises on her cheeks, and Jamie rolls his eyes, because this is getting ridiculous. All well and good for Tyler to tell him to watch and learn, but no way would she be reacting that strongly to a move like that from anybody but Tyler. Jamie touches his fingers to his own wrist, just to check, and—

Hm.

Well, all right. He can see how that might feel like something, if it were someone else’s fingers. Maybe.

Jamie leaves his fingers on his own wrist, stroking unconsciously, as he watches Tyler lean in close and whisper something into the girl’s ear. Her head is tilted up towards him, long pale neck exposed, and she smiles this little smile like she likes what he’s saying. The next minute, Tyler has both her hands in his and is leading her towards the dance floor.

They edge into the throng of other couples and practically melt into each other. It’s nothing like the awkward dances that Jamie usually has with women he’s known for five minutes. The girl still has a pretty blush on her cheeks, but she’s not shy. Her arms go up around Tyler’s neck, and their bodies curve together, moving gently. Tyler whispers in her ear again with a mischievous expression on his face, and she laughs into his shoulder.

Jamie bites his lip. It looks really nice, dancing like that. He tries to remember how long it’s been since he moved against someone like that. Longer than he wants to admit.

The song goes on, something with a slow deep bass beat, and Tyler and the girl shift from swaying into something that Jamie would definitely have to call grinding. They’ve picked up more of the rhythm of the music, a heavy thump of bass that has them rolling against each other with obvious intent. Tyler’s mouth falls open a little, and the girl’s eyes go glazed with pleasure.

Jamie swallows, darts his eyes away. Looks back again.

Their faces are close together now. They’re breathing the same air. Jamie watches as Tyler leans in, a flash of soft pink tongue as he licks along her lower lip. Her mouth opens, and Jamie can actually see it, the moment when their tongues meet in midair before their mouths slide together wetly. Tyler’s hands are on her waist, moving in little circles as he grinds their hips together and—

Fuck. Jamie should not be this hard, not while he’s sitting on a stool in a club with several of his teammates still around somewhere. Not while he’s watching another teammate make out with a girl on the dance floor. Tyler said to watch, but—Jamie’s pretty sure this isn’t what he meant.

He grabs his jacket and folds it over his arm, covering his lap. He should look away, he knows, but he can’t stop watching the way Tyler and the girl are still kissing—licking into each other’s mouths like it’s the best thing they’ve ever tasted. Tyler’s lips are—Jamie’s not sure how he hasn’t been staring at them for months now. How does he see him every day and not notice? His own mouth is wet from watching. He sees Tyler’s eyelashes flutter shut, and his pulse gives an answering flutter in his cock.

It’s several long, heat-laden molasses-length moments before Tyler’s mouth comes away from the girl’s. His lips are red and slick-looking from the kiss. He smiles at her, thick with intent, and then he says something and leads her off the dance floor.

It’s pretty obvious what’s they’re leaving to do. They head for the exit—and just before they reach it, Tyler lifts his head, looks straight at Jamie without searching at all, and winks.

Jamie sucks in a breath. His skin feels hot all over.

They go out the door. Jamie makes himself wait approximately two minutes before he gets up, jacket still strategically draped in front of his crotch, and hightails it out of there.

***

He presses his hands against the fake-leather of the cab seat during the ride home, head swimming with arousal and cock straining hard against his jeans. He stumbles up to a dark apartment—no Jordie, because Jordie’s still at the bar, isn’t he, and did Jamie actually leave him there without telling him? But it doesn’t matter, because Jamie’s in his room with the door shut now and he has his cock out before his back even hits the bed.

The first stroke of his hand is pure relief. He pulls on the length of his cock a couple of times, and then he takes his hand away and trails his fingers along the underside of his wrist.

Fuck. The way Tyler had looked, touching the girl like that. Jamie’s drowning in that moment, everything getting hotter and hazier around him. It’s Tyler stroking along his wrist, Tyler pulling Jamie’s body close to his, and it’s backwards and wrong, maybe, but Jamie’s too far gone to care. Just the thought of Tyler grinding against him makes his cock drool precome and his hand speed up. He strips his cock hard as phantom-Tyler plunders his mouth, and then he has to bite his forearm to muffle the noises he’s making as Tyler’s imaginary hips rock into him.

Tyler’s naked above him. Jamie’s mind supplies the image of Tyler’s ass from a hundred barely noticed moments in the locker room, maybe noticed a little more than Jamie thought because he can imagine so clearly how it would feel under his hands. He’d be able to feel Tyler’s cock—Tyler’s _cock_ —a hard cock that he could thrust against and make Tyler go gasping and breathless and eyelash-fluttery with naked pleasure. He’d be able to feel Tyler’s _mouth_ —

Jamie arches his back and comes to the image of Tyler biting his shoulder while his cock spurts all over Jamie’s hand. Then he falls back, panting and and tingling and striped with his own come. Little shivers are racing through his body as his breathing gradually slows.

That was…huh.

He has no idea what that was.

***

Jerking off makes Jamie sleepy, so he falls asleep without thinking about it. He doesn’t think about it the next day, either, when they have practice and then a game against the Red Wings, not when he watches Tyler strip off his clothes in the locker room and joke with Jordie and not when Tyler scores them the game-winning goal. It’s not that he’s freaking out. It’s just that he decided something, sometime in the hazy time between coming in his hand and getting out of bed this morning, and if he thinks about it, he won’t be able to do it. So he doesn’t think about it.

They win the game, and then they go out and celebrate their victory and go home and sleep and drag themselves up again for practice and go out to lunch afterward, Jamie and Jordie and Tyler. When they get back to their apartment, Jordie goes out to run errands, and as soon as the door clicks shut Jamie is putting his shoes back on, moving without any conscious decision towards the elevator and down to Tyler’s apartment.

Tyler looks surprised when he opens the door. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

He’s changed into sweatpants that ride low on his hips and a t-shirt that pulls tight across his chest. Jamie swallows hard. He needs to say something, anything, but—

Tyler grins and scratches the back of his neck. “Did you want to come in?”

Jamie follows him into his living room. He feels dissociated from his body, like it’s calling the shots and his brain is just along for the ride. And his body is very focused on Tyler’s, the way he leans against the bar in that casual cocky way he always has, hips canted out a little, waiting for Jamie to speak. “You, uh,” he says. “You know the thing you were trying to teach me about at the bar the other night? With the girl?”

“Yeah,” Tyler says. His thumbs are through his belt loops. “You want more lessons?”

Jamie can feel his pulse in his own body, and again that sense of distance. “I was hoping you could show me, actually.”

Tyler’s mouth slides into a smirk. “What, you want to go back to the bar?”

“No.” Jamie swallows again and takes a step closer. He feels big and clumsy, too large for the living room, too lumpish for the cut of Tyler’s hips. “I want you to show me.”

Tyler’s face changes. It goes surprised, and then knowing. “Oh.”

Jamie doesn’t let himself look away. There’s a trembling deep inside him, a burgeoning thing fluttering to get out and waiting for—

“Okay.” Tyler says, and Jamie’s stomach goes one step closer to molten. 

“Okay?” he repeats, dazed.

“Okay, I’ll show you.” Tyler pushes away from the bar, closer to Jamie, and cocks a smile. “The first important thing is to engage her.”

Jamie’s tongue goes thick, so that he can’t form any words. He nods.

“You want to get close,” Tyler says, voice dropping low. He trails a hand up Jamie’s arm, and it feels like a flash of light across Jamie’s skin. “Touch her a little, see how she reacts.”

“Yeah,” Jamie manages to say. He’s leaning in, no choice about it, drawn to the heat in Tyler’s eyes.

“If she’s into it,” Tyler murmurs, “you can get a little closer.” He takes his other hand, the one not on Jamie’s arm, and strokes along Jamie’s waist. Jamie’s eyelids droop, and he breathes in fast at the touch.

Tyler’s grin shades towards wicked. “You want to stay above the clothing, though,” he says, thumb rubbing circles of heat against Jamie’s skin. “Don’t want to move too fast and freak her out.”

“No,” Jamie says vaguely, assaulted by the image of Tyler _not_ staying above the clothing. Of that hand moving against his skin. He slides his hands onto Tyler’s arms, grips to hold himself steady. “But what if—” He clears his throat and starts again. “What if she wants you to move faster?”

Tyler’s dimples deepen. “Then she’ll just have to be patient.”

Jamie’s cock is already pressing against his jeans. He’s breathing a little faster than usual, and—and oh, Tyler is, too. The realization goes straight to his cock, makes it twitch against the heavy fabric.

Tyler’s mouth is open a little, even while he’s still grinning, and there’s a flush high on his cheekbones. “Of course, if you can already tell she’s into you,” he says, “you can take things a little faster. Maybe—maybe move on to the dance floor.” His voice drops to a whisper on the last few words, and he brings his other hand down to Jamie’s waist.

Jamie’s arms come up automatically around Tyler’s neck. It’s the opposite position from any Jamie’s even been in with a girl, but he doesn’t care. He cares about the way Tyler’s face is only a few inches away from his, the way his mouth is curled into a hint of his thousand-watt smile, the way his hands feel on Jamie’s waist.

“You want to keep it easy at first,” Tyler says, softer now, close enough that Jamie can feel the gust of breath when he talks. His hands slip a little lower, to the top of Jamie’s jeans. “Don’t want to get too close right away.”

Jamie’s being swallowed by the brown of his eyes. They’re still a few inches apart, all along their fronts, and Jamie can feel those inches of space as if they’re conducting heat. “Then what?” he whispers.

“Then,” Tyler says with an impish grin, “you see if she’s into it.”

Jamie swallows. “How, uh. How can you tell?”

“Well.” One of Tyler’s hands strokes up, down, sending shivers along Jamie’s side. “She might be…breathing fast.” He leans in. “There might be a blush here.” He touches his nose very softly to Jamie’s cheek, and Jame’s mouth falls open and his eyes fall shut. “She might shiver if you touch her, here,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of Jamie’s ear, and fuck, Jamie shivers all over.

“And then?” he manages to ask.

“Then,” Tyler breathes into his ear, “you can get really close.”

He slides his hands down over Jamie’s ass and brings their hips together. Jamie lets out a low moan at the feeling of—oh God—Tyler’s cock, hard already, thick and hot against his. His hips buck instinctively. Tyler gasps at that, mouth pleasure-slack. Jamie needs to feel that again, wants to keep that look on Tyler’s face, and so he does it again, a slower, more deliberate roll. They both groan.

“Yeah,” Tyler says, panting, “like that.”

“Then—what?” Jamie gasps brokenly. Tyler’s fingers dig into his ass, and God.

“Then—” Tyler’s eyelids flutter. “Then you keep doing this, for a while.” His hips are working against Jamie’s. “Then you—then—” His hands clench on Jamie’s ass. “Oh, fuck, Jamie, kiss me—”

Their mouths crash together. Tyler’s tongue is hot and in Jamie’s mouth right away, slick and wet and perfect. They’re both panting raggedly by now, licking into each other’s mouths. Each grind of their cocks is sending sparks of pleasure up Jamie’s spine.

“What about,” Jamie breaks away to gasp, “what about clothes?”

“Very important,” Tyler says. “Have to get them off— _now,_ Jamie—”

His fingers go to Jamie’s fly. They fumble Jamie’s pants and boxers off, eager, rushed, and Jamie pushes Tyler’s sweatpants down. Then it’s just their cocks, meeting wetly and making Tyler moan and bit Jamie’s lip. Jamie feels like he’s shaking again, deep inside, coming apart at the feeling of Tyler’s skin.

“I thought about it, you know,” Tyler pants, mouthing against the side of Jamie’s neck as they rut against each other. “When I was fucking that girl. Thought about you next to us, watching.”

Jamie whines. “Went home and jerked off to it,” he says, and Tyler swears and bites at his jaw.

“So fucking hot,” he says, and Jamie slides his hands down to Tyler’s bare ass and grinds harder. 

“Can we—” Fuck, he can’t even breathe. “Somewhere horizontal—”

“God, yes.” Tyler bites his earlobe, and the next thing Jamie knows they’re on the couch, Tyler above him, rocking down like in his fantasy, muscles of Tyler’s back slick under his hands. It feels—Jamie wants Tyler’s cock everywhere: against his abs, in his mouth, in his ass. He wants Tyler to—

Tyler gets his hand around both their cocks, and Jamie’s eyes roll back in his head. “Tyler—” he says. “Tyler, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, almost a sob, and he’s tipping over, Jamie following right behind, pulsing and shaking and blind and convulsing against each other as their come slicks their abs.

“Fuck,” Jamie says when he can breathe again. Tyler’s on top of him, breathing hard against the skin of his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Tyler murmurs. He stretches, skin rippling against Jamie’s in ways that are almost too much, right after orgasm, but also kind of perfect. So much skin, all under Jamie’s hands. “I gotta say,” he says, lifting his head and propping it on his hands, “I didn’t expect this to come of the bar thing.”

Jamie feels himself flush, a prickly heat that probably goes all the way down to his chest. Tyler just grins, though, dimples popping in a way that makes Jamie want to lick into them. “I mean,” he goes on, “are you telling me that would’ve worked eight months ago? Because if so, man, we wasted a lot of time.”

Jamie’s mouth falls open in surprise. “You mean—you—what? Really?”

Tyler’s eyes travel slowly down to his chest and back up to his face, an obvious appraisal. “Come on. Have you seen yourself, man?”

Jamie feels his blush deepen. Then he surges up to kiss Tyler, still naked and debauched and sweaty under Jamie’s hands, and, okay, maybe his luck isn’t the normal kind, but right now it’s _perfect._

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumble](http://linskywords.tumblr.com) with me!


End file.
